Romancing Minthara Novels & Stories

one of the doctors said. It did not work. Adrian's heart rate kept going up. His scent filled the room. It was wild and frightened. I could feel his fear from outside the room. My body reacted. I let my scent out. It smelled like the ocean and winter air. The heart monitor slowed down, and Adrian's body began to relax. The room became quiet. The doctors exchanged stunned glances. "His vitals are getting better," one doctor whispered. "But that only happens when a fated mate is nearby.

A woman dressed in deep red glides into the room without uttering a single word. Her gown hugs her body like liquid flame, embroidered in threads of black that shimmer like oil in candlelight. The fabric trails behind her, whispering against the stone floor as if it remembers every footstep ever taken in this room. Her presence is commanding. The kind of woman who doesn't need an introduction because power announces her before she speaks. My breath catches as I realize I’m no longer with Ramsey. The forest, the battlefield, even his voice is all gone. The biting scent of smoke and blood replaced by something floral and old, like dried roses left too long on a grave.

For just a second, I caught a glimpse of pain flickering across his face before it vanished behind his usual icy facade. "The wedding's next month," he said. "Nora needs a bridesmaid." Nora Hunter. The girl who had shown up out of the blue three months ago, 20 and all sunshine with her blonde hair and blue eyes, clueless about the shadows in the world. Francis had welcomed her into the mansion, showered her with jewels, and paraded her around at every high-society event. Francis kept whispering sweet nothings to me, even as he was gearing up to marry someone else.

The sanctuary, once sealed in slumber beneath centuries of decay and dread, now awakened for its rightful heir. Arla-Rosa stood at the heart of the Flamebearer’s chamber, surrounded by concentric runes etched in starlight and bloodline magic. Amarantha stood across from her, cloaked in ceremonial robes of the Saphiren matriarchs, her face serene yet shadowed by the weight of decades. In her hands, she held the Ignis Core, a glowing relic that once pulsed at the center of every Saphiren ritual.

"You're going to help me? How? And with what?" Kento's grin widened as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I am going to help you with your mission: Operation Romancing my Husband." I frowned. "Operation Romancing my Husband?" Kento nodded. "Yep. That's what you are going to do. Since you two got married without building the most important foundation, which is love, you will have to start building it from scratch. We've already got one of the ingredients: you, being madly in love with my asshole best friend. Now we only need the second ingredient, and that is to make Navid fall for you too."

I wasn’t born to either. I stood alone. The elders began the chant, and a strange hush fell across the field. The fire cracked. The moon seemed to pulse. And then—he walked in. The person with his majestic frame was no other person than Alpha Ronan Thorn. Tall. Cold. Shadowed in crimson. He didn’t spare me a glance. Beside him, Liesendra Silvershadow, his betrothed, draped in silver silk and malice. She smirked when she saw me. I lowered my gaze.

Well I remember him chuckling with Austin that night of the Conference so I’m not exactly wanting to be his friend either. He beckoned forward a keen-looking petite little woman. All brown hair and sharp eyes. “This is Etherly, she will be your ladies maid. Mina! Organise Miss Roxana the second palatial suite. She is to reside appropriately.” A tall blonde woman, presumably Mina ducked and bowed towards Zaw. She was plain enough, blonde hair scraped into a bun and big lips forced into a serious expression. “Roxana…Roxie?” she whispered as she took the rucksack from me.

I feel so lonely. His sad look and hard words touched Maria's heart. I can hug you if you want. She kneels down to him, wraps him in a warm embrace, not at all gratuitous, both two were carried away by their passions, and ended up giving each other a long and intense kiss, apparently of hormonal reconciliation, the passion seemed to take them to another level. But she cuts the romantic course, arguing that she will not forget everything she saw, and lived. She tries to leave, he takes her arm and asks who she is, she tells him her full name and again reminds him that she saved his life, he thanks her but reiterates who you really are, she replies; - Don't you see, I am your Karma and you are

Kandreah rumbled, looking unperturbed by the scythe grazing his neck. “You are aware that I am talking about the son of the late Minthe Riggs, right?“ Norgarth said. In a blur which was hard to catch with an eye, Kandreah moved the scythe off his neck, twisted Norgarth’s hand with a loud crack and started to punch him relentlessly. In an unexpected twist of events, Kandreah broke Norgarth’s arm and battered him with a series of punches and kicks, which looked ridden with raw rage and was now holding Norgarth in a chokehold: “…if you ever dare to put that name in your filthy Wengarthrian mouth again in my presence it will be the last thing you ever said. I will crush you like a fucking cockro